HEAVENLY PARTNERS - P2/13THE MYSTICAL MARRIAGE OF THE PHYSICAL WITH THE SPIRITUAL

Light spectrum possibilities for my brother Bill, who opted for flesh tone, and thus manifested on planet Earth so that he would look like everyone else :)

Page 2 - A SPELL IS CAST

Dear Carol:

My brother did indeed find a nice car. A Mercury Tracer at book value,
including tags and taxes, thanks to the cooperation of the nice owner of the
dealership and to the spell I cast. I used the spell designed to speed up the
events in my life. I subbed in my own words in place of the book's version.
The spell goes like this:

I call upon my own power within
I call upon the power of the universe.
I call upon the power of the spiritual
forces surrounding me.
Set forces in motion!

Shape circumstances in my favor!
Make things happen!
Bring about events!
Build up momentum in my favor!
So shall it be!

All that for a new car! I also did a ritual, a Tarot card reading and
visualization. And you know what? I'm beginning to think some luck, besides
just strange luck, was involved in my car being stolen. It was timely at
least, because Bill will soon be out of the car business and into the TV
advertising business. I can't think of anything that I want to advertise on
TV, especially free Tarot card readings.

Everyday after work I come home to an answering machine full of messages. The
machine records about 15 calls a day, and that doesn't count the hang-ups. You
couldn't get another message on there sideways! Most of the callers sound like
professional people, you know, all quite sane and intelligent. They leave very
calm messages. But a few callers are clearly wackos and some are seriously
desperate.

Truthfully, I feel overwhelmed, which is why I don't answer the phone when it
rings. I let the machine catch it while I listen. I don't know what to do
about all these people, and until I do I'm not answering the phone. And I
haven't returned any of the calls. At night I turn off the ringer because
people call all night long. I think I over-invoked when I invoked the universe
to make things happen and to speed things up. Now what am I supposed to do? I
guess I'll cast a spell to increase my psychic abilities. I may need them!

In this spell I called upon all the good and friendly spirit guides to help me
become more psychic. I asked them to help me open myself to the Knowledge and
to their guidance. Out loud I said, "I call upon my high-level Guide. I want
only my high-level Guide to respond to me." Here is the spell:

.
All that was hidden is no longer hidden
But is now brought forth into my understanding.

I begin to know all the secrets of the Spirit World.
I see with spirit eyes.
I hear with spirit ears.
I feel with spirit feelings.

And while I was asking for all these psychic abilities (clairvoyance - the
ability to access psychic information by using the sense of sight to see
external and internal visions; clairaudience - the same ability but using the
sense of hearing; and clairsentience - the same ability but using the sense of
emotional or physical feeling), I also requested a new boyfriend. Well, why
not? Looks like this stuff is working and I could use one.

I called for love to come to me, from near or from far. I called for a
passionate love, a lasting love, and a love drawn to me like a butterfly to a
flower, like a bee to nectar. I was very intense and I invoked several times.
Then my phone rang, and I was sure it was the spell working! But it was not my
new lover. It was a lady begging me to come see her sick and dying mother.
"She's dying of unknown causes," the lady said.

Oh, dang, what now? I told her it was beyond my experience and abilities. She said they'd
lost all hope anyway and that it couldn't hurt for me to come try to find out
what was killing her. To discourage her, I asked for what I thought was a
large fee of $50. Well, it was, after all, my professional debut as a psychic so there was a good chance she was throwing her money away, and I didn't want her to throw away too much of it. But, she agreed right away and gave me directions to her home. I
told her I would go if her mother called me and asked me. About 30 minutes
later, her mother called and asked me to come. I can't even believe it, but I went.

They live in a tidy frame house with a big, screened porch. The daughter is
really nice. She met me at the door and took me through the living room, where pictures of Martin Luther King and John Kennedy were hung over the sofa, and there were crucifixes and images of Jesus in the room. She led me down a short hallway and into her mother's bedroom at the end. On the bed lay her mother, who really looked old, in her 80's, and shriveled. She was lying uncomfortably on the bed, and I could
see she was very sick. As I walked towards her I stepped on something crunchy
scattered all over the floor. It was bent toothpicks, all broken at the
center and almost layering the hardwood floor. The daughter said that she keeps finding them on the floor but she
doesn't know how they get there. I thought, yeah right, well, somebody puts
them there. I suspected the mother. I asked the old woman if she puts the
toothpicks on the floor. She gave me a sharp look and said, "No!' But I didn't
believe her. The daughter put a wad of money in my hand before I could run out
the door. I glanced at it as I put it in my purse - $100.

I sat down in a chair by the bed and asked the mother, "What do you think is
wrong with you?" She picked up a stack of papers and handed them to me. It was
Xerox copies of her medical history. I could tell by the way that she looked
at me that she didn't have confidence in me. According to her medical history, which I was able to perfectly understood having put myself through school as a part-time medical and radiology secretary,
she had seen several of Atlanta's best doctors. They diagnosed her, and then
undiagnosed her, as having lung cancer. They couldn't see it on the chest
x-≠rays. They were just guessing. Obviously, they didn't know what was wrong
with her. All they know is that she's suffocating to death. They can't even
find emphysema or any respiratory problems. They think she's psychosomatic.
They sent her to two psychiatrists who also couldn't help her. Her diagnosis
is unknown and her prognosis is death. She said the last doctor she saw
told her to "go home and die." I hope I never go to that doctor!

I asked her if she thought she was dying. She said "yes," and she looked like she believed it. "Yes, and the pain pills won't stop the pain." Then she started
crying. I told her that death is an illusion, just a transition to another
existence, but she wasn't consoled. (It wouldn't have consoled me, either.)
I sensed a strange atmosphere in the room like doom or despair. It felt like I
was sitting over one of Wade's vents of Hell. I started thinking that this old
woman was wicked. She seemed cold and mean, and she stared at me in a daring
way, like she was challenging me with her eyes. I could tell she didn't think
I could help her. I thought she was just humoring her daughter, who must have
talked her into this. The daughter always looked down at the floor and talked
to the plywood. She never looked directly into her mother's eyes. Whenever
she did look up, she looked at me. Her face was shining with hope and love.
In a soft voice, she told me that I had a beautiful spirit and that she knew I
could help her mother. The old lady smirked at this.

But I was getting something out of all this that they didn't know about. I
felt competent and relaxed and it really felt good. I was getting into how I
felt in this situation. I kind of stepped out of myself and I began to feel
like I was floating near the ceiling and that I was transcendent of this whole
thing. I asked spirit for help and guidance. I felt myself transition to
someone who was myself-not, someone who suddenly knew exactly what to do because she had always known what to do.

Sensing this change in me, the mother asked me to read her Tarot cards to see
if she had lung cancer. She asked me which card was her card. You know how
you just KNOW things, sometimes? I just knew she was "The Hermit." I took the
card out of the deck and showed it to her. I told her The Hermit was a
spiritual person, someone who lights the way for others. Her daughter got
excited and, for the first time, she looked up and spoke in her mother's
direction. She said that her mother had always been a spiritual woman, and
many people called on her night and day for advice and guidance. The mother
smirked again. She was too weak to shuffle, so I gave the cards to the
daughter. I told them both to concentrate. The daughter shuffled and cut.
The first card up was The Hermit. When they saw that card, they starting
rocking back and forth, saying "Sweet Jesus, sweet Jesus. Thank you, Jesus." But I was not surprised because myself who was myself-not just KNEW that card was coming up.

THE VOODOO PRIESTESS

The cards showed me that the mother did not have lung cancer or any physical
malady. They also showed me another card, The Devil, and I knew right then the
real problem. It was pretty clear the meaning of that card within this
context. Then, the cards showed me some people and their negative intent. The
people were doing something against this old woman. That's when "voodoo" first
occurred to me.

I don't know much about voodoo, just what I pick up watching movies about it but I do love those kinds of movies, like "Live and Let Die" and "Angel Heart." Just as I thought
"voodoo," I glanced at the mother and saw into her. And I saw that she knew
what I was thinking. She stared back at me defiantly, and I looked into her eyes and I
saw her for who she was, a voodoo priestess like Margaret Krusemark and
Evangelina Proudfoot in Angel Heart. Now. I knew why the daughter was afraid
of the mother. I knew why the mother seemed wicked and why the room was filled
with a gloom. I knew why people called on her for advice and why the doctors
thought her illness was psychosomatic. And then, I understood why the broken toothpicks
were on the floor. I said to her, "What are those toothpicks supposed to do,
stop evil spirits?" She admitted it. I said, "Are they supposed to stop the
pain?" Tearfully now, because the toothpick magic wasn't working, she answered kind of pathetically,
"Yes," and gave herself over to me in that moment.

My consciousness kept shifting from being up on the ceiling and knowing everything, to sitting in the chair wondering how I could have gotten myself into this. Voodoo. Can you believe this? And what does that make me, a root doctor? Some people somewhere had
cast a voodoo spell on this old woman, probably in response to an evil magic
spell she had aimed at them, and now here I was, the root doctor hired to
remove the spell. I didn't come equipped with roots, and where was I going to put the spell if I took it off her? I think the evil is supposed captured into the roots that I forgot to bring or even know where to get.

In a flash of comprehension I realized what had happened. They had found my Tarot ad
sandwiched between two root doctor ads and they assumed I was a root doctor. That's a person
who removes voodoo spells. Root doctors use various roots like mandrake
and they use strange talismans like stump-tail lizards that they catch in a
graveyard at midnight. All these thoughts raced through my mind at 90 miles an
hour. It blew me away and my mind began to drift and scrounge around in my memory for
anything I could remember about voodoo and root doctors, because I figured it was on me right now to do something about all of this and earn the $100.

South Georgia abounds with root doctors. Have you met any? Years ago, when
someone told me about root doctors, I laughed. Well, I wasn't laughing now. I
was sitting at the bedside of a sick and dying woman who already must have run
through several root doctors, and none of them could help her. $100 and it's
all up to me. And not only that, but I left my spell book at home! Plus, the
only roots I'm familiar with are the ones I try to die out of my hair every
month. I would have to either get up and leave or improvise. And I was just
thinking about refunding the money and leaving when I felt a strange force stop me. Then, some
images floated through my mind and I had that strange knowing again, where I
just KNEW what to do.

I became myself-not again and I sent the daughter to find a piece of paper, a pen, a candle, some matches, a
glass jar, a wash rag and a bowl of water. When she had assembled all of these
things on the table before me, I asked the mother - she was really excited and
hopeful - who did she believe was putting a spell on her? She named five
people, and as she did I wrote their names on a piece of paper. Then, I laid
out five Tarot cards: The Hermit, Strength, The Star, The World and the Ace of
Cups. As I laid them out I said to the mother, "This is you. You are The
Hermit. As I place this card on the table I am placing you in one spot and I
am going to surround you with spiritual help like a force field around you. As
I do it, think about how much you want to be well. Close your eyes and think
about the days when you were healthy and happy." She closed her eyes and smiled
for the first time.

To the bottom left of The Hermit I placed Strength and said, "I surround you
with strength. Imagine you are the strongest person you know. Think of
yourself as having all the strength you need to break the spell cast upon you.
You are so strong, you can get better and better until you're well again." To
the top left of The Hermit I placed The Star and said, "I surround you with
angels and Spiritual Guides. Perhaps the doctors and nurses couldn't help you,
but the angels and the spirits can, for they have more power. These spiritual
beings surround you and look after you. They will help to heal you if you will
let them. Imagine that they are touching you and healing you right now." To
the top right of The Hermit I placed The World and said, "I surround you with
the life force of the universe. The life force is entering into your body to
heal you. Feel the life force as it comes down through the top of your head
and goes all the way down to your toes. The life force comes back up and goes
into your lungs, healing you and making it easier for you to breathe.
Concentrate on your lungs and direct the life force of the universe into them.
It fills up your lungs." She tried to breathe deeply.

To the bottom right of The Hermit I placed the Ace of Cups and said, "I
surround you with happiness and joy. Imagine yourself being happy and healthy
and getting up from your bed and walking around. Picture yourself walking into
your living room and into the kitchen to cook supper like you used to do.
Imagine that you have completely recovered from your illness and that you are
active and happy. Think of yourself as whole and healthy again."

Then, we three joined hands and I told them to repeat after me. I called upon
the strongest powers in the universe. "I call now upon the Earth, the deserts,
the mountains, the plains, the forests filled with trees and scattered with
rocks. Give strength and power to my spell as I light this candle in
summoning." I lit the candle in front of me. Then I said, and they repeated,
"I call now upon the waters, the lakes, the streams, the rivers, the oceans.
Give strength and power to my spell as I light this candle in summoning. I
call now upon the skies, the distant galaxies, the moons and planets, near and
far, and upon the wind and the breezes. Give strength and power to my spell as
I light this candle in summoning. I call now upon the fires that burn in the
stars, the fires that burn in the earth and the fires that burn in the human
body. Give strength and power to my spell as I light this candle in summoning."

It wasn't like I didn't understand what I was doing, and I think I must have read something like that in a book somewhere. Each of these powers is
represented in the 4 suits of the Tarot deck. Earth is Pentacles (Diamonds),
Water is Cups (Hearts), Air is Swords (Spades) and Fire is Wands (Clubs). I had
just been reading about Aristotle in ancient Greece. He did a lot of work with
these correlations and established it as part of a philosophical system. By
calling on these 4 elements, according to Aristotle, I called upon the genius
of the universe. And I really needed a genius to help me, that's for sure.
And the amazing thing was, I fully expected this stuff to work!

Then I closed my eyes and said, "Reaching far back into the archaic past of the
universe, into the deep eternal reaches of time, I call forth the Creators of
the world to bring us Fortune and to fulfill our spell." I placed my hands
directly above the card layout and said, "Into these cards I direct the Powers
of the universe. Into these cards I direct the spiritual forces surrounding
us. Into these cards I direct my own powers, and I call upon the forces of
Nature to be with me now as I work to make this spell manifest. I petition
you, great and infinite creative Powers and beings of Nature, to make my spell
manifest. Mark well what I have done here and work to make it so."

Next, I dripped wax onto the piece of paper with the names and I dropped the
paper into the glass jar. I changed the card layout. In the center I placed,
as before, The Hermit. To the right I placed the 8 of Swords and said, "Those
who cast the curse upon you are bound. Those who cast the curse upon you are
confined." To the left of The Hermit I placed the 9 of Swords and said, "Those
who cast the curse upon you are blocked." Directly below The Hermit I placed
The Hanged Man and said, "Those who cast the curse upon you are unable to move
against you. Those who cast the curse upon you can do you no harm." Above The
Hermit I placed Temperance and said, "The angels protect you now. The spirits
of the universe are on your side. Those people who want to hurt you are now in
this jar, where they will not be harmed but where they cannot harm you, either.
They are surrounded by a positive force field that repels them and their
negative intentions. If they try to harm you, their bad thoughts and negative
energy will deflect off the glass and fall right back on top of them. So it is
and so shall it be."

PSYCHIC HEALING

Next, I put the wash rag into the bowl of water, and I held my hands over the
water and said to the mother, "Close your eyes and imagine you are floating in
space in a field of twinkling stars. You are up there floating and weightless,
just relaxed and looking at all the beautiful stars out in the universe. Do
you see the twinkling stars?" She said, "I do! I see them!" I said, "You are there floating and I am here below you.
I call upon those twinkling stars to direct their power down through you and
down to me. The star power flows down through you and down into your arms and
fingers and into this water." Then I said, "I direct great powers, the powers
of the stars, into this water."

I bathed her from head to foot, concentrating on her chest area, and wiped the
wash rag over her nightgown. As I did it I said, "I am bathing you in
starlight. I am bathing you in the healing powers that flow through me. I am
wiping away your illness. Your sickness flows away from you like a river. It
flows into this wash rag and is gone away." I told her to repeat after me, "I
release all sickness. I release all pain. I am in full health. I feel
wonderful. So it is and so shall it be."

Before I left, I told her to light a candle every day and to wash herself this
way every morning and evening. I instructed her to spend a part of the day
visualizing feeling better and getting well. I told her to keep the glass jar
in full view and to stop giving spiritual advice and guidance to others. I
told her to concentrate all her powers on herself and to pray to Jesus to be
with her. Finally, we three held hands and prayed to Jesus to help her get
better.

I was in her home for about three hours. As I was leaving, she and her
daughter thanked me again and again for all I had done. The next day, my big
toe on my right foot hurt so bad I limped all day and into the night. It
freaked me out because I knew that's where I had put her evil voodoo and her
pain. I just hoped that thing would stay quarantined in my toe and not get the
idea to spread out into my body. My answering machine recorded several calls
from the mother telling me her pain was gone, that she felt better and that she
was up and walking around for the first time in weeks. I went to the library
and read about Therapeutic Touch, which is sending energy through the hands
into a sick person's body. This is a modern version of Laying on of Hands.
According to the book I read, by washing her I cleansed her energy field and
smoothed out her aura, which is the personal biofield of an individual. I went home and gave my big toe several baths in cold water

The toe pain was gone by the following morning, but the memory of it and of how
it happened stays with me. I doubt that I am suited for this line of work. In
fact, I think I'm well out of it because I don't want to get involved again in
trying to remedy in one night what might be the result of a lifetime of someone
doing what they shouldn't do, like practice black magic. In short, I am out of
the root doctor business forever. Write soon.

Dear Claire:

I adore your new career. Must you give it up? I think you should start
getting yourself all done up like Gloria Swanson in "Sunset Boulevard" or, at the
very least, like Gina Davis in "The Accidental Tourist." And read
Skinny Legs and All
by Tom Robbins. I am certain there are things in it you can use in your new
career. I am very interested in your psychic wardrobe. Remember the robe that
Mickey Mouse wears when he is the sorcerer? It's dark blue or black with the
silver stars and crescent moons and other sorcerish-looking things on it.
Well, you should at least have one of those to wear when you get out of the
shower.

I think your hair is too pretty to be contained under a turban. Perhaps you
could find some astral-looking barrettes and chignon pins in antique and junk
stores, along with some astral-looking jewelry. Bakelite is a good choice, and
carnelians protect against hemorrhage and gunshot wounds. (Napoleon wore one
into battle.) And if you are going to hang out with aging voodoo priestesses
(who are possibly looking for a nice, healthy body to jump into), then I
suggest you invest in a very large carnelian. And a garlic choker. And a vial
of holy water. And a nice Gucci purse to carry it all in.

Oh, the woes of a single mother with a small child. I have just spent a
grueling hour out at the barn standing on the very top of a rickety little
wooden ladder and trying to figure out how to hang Jessie's new swing. Nothing
would go right. I couldn't get the eyebolts into the beam. I couldn't get the
chain in the S-hooks. I just couldn't get the thing up there. I got so mad
and frustrated that I wanted to take my shiny new hammer and bust up the new
swing but Little Tykes is a subsidiary of Rubbermaid, and their toys are
absolutely indestructible. Jessie stood beneath me swinging a long stick all
around knocking down "fidey webs," and nearly knocked me off the ladder. After
several near death experiences, I finally got that thing up.

We went to Dr. Bartlett yesterday for her checkup, and she cried when the
Prince of Darkness put his little light in her ear. But just as soon as he put
down the Deadly Brain Scrambler, she was fine again. She even crossed the room
and took the prescription from the Accursed One and brought it to me. While we
had Jessie pinned down and screaming, and while he tried to check her ears, I
told him his job couldn't always be so thankless or he wouldn't want to do it
anymore. He said, "No. At about age three they start to come around." Except
for Jessie, I guess.

Sometime in the dim, recent past I ordered a set of books for Jessie, and the
first 8 came today. We came home from the post office and read all 8, and they
are really quite good: simple texts, good illustrations, and stories about
things that kids do, like going to the doctor. Dr. Cat should have come
yesterday. One illustration showed Dr. Cat using the Deadly Brain Scrambler to
look inside little kids' ears. Jessie tried to act offhand about that, but it
wasn't lost on her.

We are the proud owners of ten chickens. I have never had any chickens before
and know zip about them, except that they like lettuce, and you have never seen
any animal go as crazy over anything as chickens over lettuce. Of course, it
could be argued that chickens are pretty crazy, anyway. Following the
directions in a chicken book that I checked out from the library, I built a
chicken coop beside Mr. Moore's horse stall: a nice coop as far as coops go,
but all chicken yards are ratty looking and made out of junk. Do you ever
remember a fancy chicken yard? Then, I spent two nights building a chicken pen
that mounts to the wall beside the other chicken pen, as a holding pen for the
new biddies until they are tough enough and big enough for general pop. Next,
I have to build a big chicken yard. (I don't see this thing ever ending.) After
I keep the chickens in the coop for about a week, I can let them out so they
can crap on everything out at the barn. Then, they will only go in their coop
long enough to roost and lay eggs, of which they are not doing very much.
After purchasing everything it takes to accommodate chickens, I figure I have
about $12 apiece in four eggs. Chicken hours are from daylight to dark.

Jessie's getting bunnies for Easter. Did I tell you? Now, here is the most
useless pet there is. Flopsy and Mopsy will just live in a nice little cage
and I will feed them. And never, ever will I let them out because something
will eat them before they hit the ground. Nature is very hard on bunnies and
chickens and everybody else. I have to color eggs today, having put it off as
long as possible and still remain a fit mother. (I considered rewriting that
sentence but ultimately figured you would understand it even if you did not
find it magnificently crafted.)

The Easter Bunny also is bringing Jessie a stuffed green Easter Dragon, not the
usual stuffed animal but certainly the one she liked the best. I am going to
hide some eggs in the backyard for Jessie to find. And if I don't get over this nagging headache
soon, I'm afraid I will want to stand on the back porch and throw the eggs.
Usually the only eggs I
hunt are the ones on my plate.

I just spent 15 minutes rereading and adding to my master list of Important
Things I Need To Do Badly, but I didn't do any of them. I fear I have written
off more words than I can actually chew with regard to the list of things that
I need to accomplish today. Oh, fiddle dee dee. I'll just erase some of it.
So how is your life? Not so full of chickens, I suspect. I will leave you
with an incantation that you might find useful: "O! Wotta goo Siam." Write
soon.

Dear Claire:

I still haven't heard from you, and I hope it is not because I was so glib
about your new career. I am surely sorry if I made you mad. I was only
joking, even though I meant every word of it. Well, there I've done it again.
You could write and cuss me out. That's much better than no letter all.

I have thought about calling you to tell you how sick I am, just in case you
could heal me over the phone, but I didn't want you to catch the flu. I am too
sick to describe it in only a few words. I think I have settled on a leopard
print silk for the casket lining, and make certain the mortician uses blue
eyeliner instead of gray.

Jessie and I have come down with something flu-like; it is most likely Black
Lung. Last night, when I was trying to pour grape flavored Tylenol down Jessie's
throat, she was covering up her mouth and yelling, 'Go away!" Sometimes she
changes it to "Get away!" She learned it from me because that's what I tell her
when she is driving me nuts.

I wish I had never taught Jessie how to blow that little oak whistle. She
blows it if she needs anything. Jessie has probably blown it 1,000 times this
afternoon. What's really fun is when she gets right next to me or on top of me
and blows it. The cats really like it, too.

I am so full of antihistamines my eyes will hardly turn in their sockets, and
since Jessie has finally taken a nap, I must crawl back to my sick/death bed
and rest. But I am thinking of you. Write soon.

A Spiritual Revelation about the Enlightenment and its Social Oppression

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